


Those Who Live Without Love

by RowanAsh20



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/F, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanAsh20/pseuds/RowanAsh20
Summary: Rough childhoods. Feeling unloved. A need to prove themselves. All things that Tom and Winston have in common. Being in the same year and in the same house at Hogwarts, Tom and Winston become friends, challenging each other to become the greatest wizards the world had ever seen. However, as the years  went on it became apparent that Tom and Winston were opposite sides of the same coin, as Tom began going down a darker path in life. Determined to save Tom from a life of hate, Winston makes it his goal to show Tom that he is loved, and that greatness can be achieved without evil.
Relationships: Tom Riddle/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 20





	1. Prologue

Winston stood on the platform at King's Cross station. Around him, children and their parents were milling around as they said their goodbyes to each other and boarded the train. His mother had been the one to drop him off, but hadn't stayed to say goodbye. Winston wasn't too bothered by it--he knew that his friend Margaret and her parents would be along shortly, as they'd agreed to board the train together. 

He had received his letter of acceptance to Hogwarts that spring. His parents had both gone to Hogwarts, so it was no surprise that he had been accepted. 

"Winston!" 

A familiar voice shouting from behind him made him turn around. He smiled as he saw Margaret running towards him. Her parents followed slowly behind her, and Winston could hear them say something about her running too fast. 

"Mum says the train's going to leave soon--we'd better hurry and get on!" She beamed. Margaret was full of energy, as always. 

"Not so fast, dear. You haven't given me a hug goodbye!" Margaret's mother said, holding out her arms. 

"Mum!" Margaret groaned impatiently. She was itching to get on the train, just as any other first year leaving for Hogwarts for the first time. Rolling her eyes, she left Winston's side to give her mother a quick hug. Winston watched his friend in envy, wishing that his mother had cared enough to hug him. Margaret's mother must have noticed his staring, as she gave him a warm smile as Margaret stepped away. 

"You too, Winston." 

Sheepishly, he went over and gave Margaret's mother a hug. Since he'd been young, Margaret's mother had always treated him as one of her own.

"Alright, run along you two. The train should be leaving any minute now. We'll make sure your things are put on the train." Margaret's mother told them. Margaret's father had taken both of their trunks, along with the cages that held their pet owls.

"Bye, mum!" Margaret said as she took Winston's hand and pulled him away from her parents towards the train. They climbed up the steps as they boarded, Margaret not letting go of his hand as she led him through compartments. They passed by older students, who didn't pay them any mind as they tried to find a compartment. Most of them were already full, and so they were closer to the back of the train when they finally found one that wasn't too full. The door to the compartment was open, and Winston could see that there was a boy sitting there, looking out the window. Margaret peered into the compartment.

"Can we sit here? The compartments are all full," Margaret asked. 

"If you don't mind." Margaret added quickly, as she realized she'd forgotten her manners. The boy's expression was unreadable as his gaze shifted from Margaret to Winston, as if he was debating in his head whether or not he should let them.  
"Sure." he replied simply. 

Margaret smiled and entered the compartment. Winston tugged on her jumper and gave her a stern look. She knew what he meant without having to ask. 

"Oh, thanks, by the way!" she said cheerfully. The boy said nothing as Winston and Margaret sat down across from him. Not even seconds later, Margaret was already introducing herself. 

"I'm Margaret!" she chirped happily with a wide smile. Silence followed, and Margaret leaned towards Winston.

"He's very quiet." She remarked. 

"Margaret," Winston chided gently, smiling politely as he turned his gaze back to the boy. 

"Don't mind Margaret, she means well. My name's Winston. What's yours?" he asked the boy. 

"Tom." The boy replied. He didn't seem very interested in talking, but Margaret tried to talk to him anyway. 

"Are you a first year?" she asked, Tom nodded.

"So are we! Oh, have you got a wand?" 

"Of course he's got a wand, Margaret, every first year's supposed to have one." Winston reminded his friend with a laugh. Tom nodded again, and Winston wondered for a moment if he would actually show it to them. Margaret was being a bit overwhelming, after all. Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand, making Margaret gasp.

"Oh, it's so pretty!" she exclaimed in amazement. The wand was a unique looking one--it was white, with flecks of black, and it had a hooked handle. 

"What's it made of?" Winston wondered aloud. It was a nice looking wand compared to his own, which was brown, and quite plain looking. Winston's wand was made of Rowan wood, something that Mr. Ollivander said suited his personality well. 

"Yew. It's made from a phoenix feather, too." Tom explained, looking a little more interested in conversation than he had previously. Margaret looked so excited that she could burst as she pulled out her own wand. 

"Mine's made of Ash! Oh, and what's it called Winston? Dragon..." Margaret trailed off as she tried to remember what the core of her wand was called. 

"Dragon heartstring." Winston chimed in. His wand was made of the same core--it was supposed to be really good at learning spells quickly. 

They spent a few minutes talking about spells, before Winston suggested they change into their robes before they arrived at Hogwarts. Winston was the last one to change, and just as he was returning to their compartment, Hogwarts came into view. They arrived at Hogwarts a few minutes later, and the three of them went with the group of first years towards the lake, where they would take a boat across. Tom had decided to stick with Winston and Margaret, which surprised Winston. He hadn't been too friendly at first, but Winston guessed that he must have warmed up to them a little bit. The whole time that they were in the boat, Margaret chatted endlessly about how excited she was. 

"Does she ever shut up?" Tom muttered in annoyance. Stifling a laugh, Winston shook his head. 

"No, not really."

When they arrived at Hogwarts, they were led up the stairs to the Great Hall. Before they went in, they were greeted by a professor. 

"Welcome to Hogwarts. My name is Professor Dumbledore. I'm just going to explain a few things before I take you into the Great Hall," the professor began. He spoke in a calm, friendly voice. He had a long white beard, and was wearing glasses. Winston knew that he was a well-known and respected wizard, from what he'd heard his parents say. 

"When you go into the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The houses are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Your house will earn or lose points depending on what you do, so try not to break any of the rules." Dumbledore explained. 

Winston didn't know what house he would be sorted into. His father had been a Slytherin during his time at Hogwarts, and his mother had been sorted into Gryffindor. His parents didn't really seem to care much about what he did while at Hogwarts, but he remembered his father saying something about wanting Winston to be in either Slytherin or Gryffindor, since those were the more "superior houses" as his father put it. 

After a short, further explanation on the house point system, Dumbledore led them into the Great Hall. As the group of them filed in behind the professor, Winston was looking around in awe. 

There were four long tables where the students of each of the houses sat, and a table at the end of the hall where other professors were sitting. Above them, lit candles were floating in the air, and the ceiling had been magically altered to look like the evening sky. 

"Wow," Margaret whispered to Winston. "This is amazing!" 

"Yeah," Winston breathed. Tom looked just as amazed as they did, looking around at his surroundings. 

They stopped in front of a stool. An old, pointed hat was sitting on top of it, which Winston guessed was the Sorting Hat. 

Before the sorting began, the headmaster, Professor Dippet, said a few things about what was out of bounds, before Dumbledore began to read the names of the first years. The names were read in alphabetical order, and a few names were read before Winston's name was called. 

"Winston Darcy." Professor Dumbledore called. Winston stepped forward, smiling nervously at Dumbledore as they made eye contact. Behind him, he heard Margaret whisper, 

"Good luck." 

Winston sat down on the stool, and the sorting hat was placed on his head. The sorting hat came to life, and began speaking as it made its decision as to what house Winston would be sorted into. 

"Darcy, eh? Ah, I remember your parents. You're very brave....and smart too. You want to make a lasting impression, don't you? Hm...Gryffindor or Slytherin...it could go either way...but you're very ambitious, yes...very ambitious.....alright! It better be....Slytherin!" 

Cheers erupted from the tables of students, particularly from the Slytherin table as Winston hopped off of the stool and made his way over. He sat at the end of the table, watching as other students were sorted. They went through a few more names. 

"Laura Grenfell." 

Another name was called, and Winston watched as a blonde girl who had been standing beside Margaret went up towards the stool. It didn't take long for the hat to decide, as it soon exclaimed, 

"Hufflepuff!" 

As the students cheered again, Winston couldn't help but think what a weird name Hufflepuff was. He was sure that his father would've been disappointed had he been sorted there. 

"Tom Riddle." 

Winston looked up as he heard a familiar name. He wondered where Tom would be sorted. He knew it definitely wouldn't be Hufflepuff. Perhaps Ravenclaw? He did seem very clever. 

The sorting hat made its decision very quickly, and the hat hadn't even been placed on Tom's head as it declared, 

"Slytherin!"

Winston smiled at Tom as he made his way over to the Slytherin table, sitting beside him. Winston was relieved that he would at least know somebody in Slytherin, and he hoped that he and Tom would become better friends. 

"Well, I guess we're in the same house. I wonder where the hat will put Margaret." Winston said. The corner of Tom's mouth twitched upwards into a smirk as he whispered, 

"She's not very bright. Probably Hufflepuff." 

Winston grinned. She was his childhood friend, and he cared for her greatly, but he had to admit, Tom was right with that statement. Margaret wasn't the smartest. 

"Margaret Spencer." 

Eagerly, Margaret sat on the stool, and the hat was placed on her head. The sorting hat pondered for a moment, before exclaiming, 

"Gryffindor!" 

Winston cheered for his friend. Tom raised his eyebrows. He definitely hadn't expected Margaret to be a Gryffindor. Despite any doubts that anyone had, the sorting hat was said to never be wrong. He felt a surge of pride the minute he put on the emerald and silver tie, and he knew that he would do great things, regardless of what his parents thought of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Six years later - September 1944 

The beginning of Winston's seventh year felt surreal to him. He could hardly believe how fast his years at Hogwarts went by, much less that he'd actually made it that far. Over time, he had managed to become one of the best wizards in his year.  
It was the second day of the term. Winston was sitting in the Great Hall at the Slytherin table, eating breakfast before classes started. They had received their timetables and were discussing their class schedules. Reading the schedule to see what class they would have first, Winston noticed that they had a double period of transfiguration first.  
"We have a double period first. At least it's with Dumbledore—he's a good teacher."  
"Hardly." Tom replied flatly, with a hint of disdain. He never seemed to like Dumbledore very much, although Winston never knew why. After a few seconds of silence, Winston thought it would be better to change the subject.  
"So, how does it feel to be Head Boy? He asked.  
"It must be amazing, having all that privilege. Just think of all the things you can get away with." He added with a grin. He knew that Tom was the perfect student for the job since he never disobeyed the rules and never got into trouble. It was probably for the best since most students would probably do the exact opposite.  
"If you are implying that I should help you get out of trouble, you've got the wrong idea. I'm surprised professor Dippet even considered me for it, after all the things I let you get away with when I was a prefect."  
"I wasn't that bad, Tom."  
"Oh really? I suppose you don't remember getting blackout drunk after you sneaked firewhisky into that party last year."  
In sixth year after Gryffindor had won the quidditch cup and Slytherin had lost the match, Gryffindor had thrown a party to celebrate, unbeknownst to the teachers. Being the captain of the Slytherin quidditch team and Margaret's best friend, Winston had been invited, and he had sneaked in a few bottles of firewhisky. Needless to say, Tom was not impressed when he had to drag Winston back down to their dorm in the early hours of the morning. That was only one example of the trouble Winston had gotten himself into while at Hogwarts, and Winston was sure that Tom would never let him forget it.  
"You're no fun." Winston teased playfully, eliciting an unamused glare from Tom.  
The sound of wings flapping made Winston look up, only to see his owl, Reggie. The tawny owl had a red envelope in its grasp, and Winston's smile faded as he realized what it was.  
"Not again." He muttered in dismay. The letter was dropped, and Winston reached out to catch it before it landed on his plate. Despite having a firm grip on the letter, it ripped itself out of Winston's hands. Floating above him, it tore open, forming the shape of a mouth as it bellowed its message. 

"Winston Frederick Darcy, this is the second year in a row your mother and I haven't heard from you, you ungrateful brat! If I ever see you again, you'll be sorry you ever decided to abandon your family!"  
Winston tuned the rest of his father's message out as it continued. Over the two years that he had ceased contact with his parents, he had gotten used to receiving howlers regularly. As usual, Winston was getting stares from students around the Great Hall. It made him uncomfortable, how some of them would look at him with pity. Nobody would ever say anything, however, as conflicts with family were rarely discussed.  
He was relieved when the howler finally shredded itself into pieces, turning to a pile of ashes as it burst into flames. He stared blankly at the table where the ashes had fallen, wondering why his parents even cared enough to keep sending him howlers.  
"Don't pay them any mind, Winston." Tom told him gently. Winston smiled weakly as he got up from the table, following the crowd of students as they left the Great Hall to get to their classes. He walked with Tom through the hallway and out into the courtyard. Behind him, Winston heard a familiar voice call his name.  
"Winston!"  
Margaret was hurrying to catch up to him. She gave him a quick hug.  
"Your parents are mental," she breathed as she walked with him across the courtyard.  
"I'd like to send them a howler. Give them a taste of their own medicine for once." She hissed. Winston was grateful to have Margaret as a friend. Had she not been there to take him in when he fled from his parents, Winston didn't know what he would have done.  
"When are you holding quidditch tryouts? We're having them this Thursday." Margaret asked, weaving around a couple of second years who were standing in her way. Tom looked over his shoulder at them as he passed, scoffing at Margaret.  
"I don't know why you were appointed Head Girl if you don't even enforce the rules." He remarked. Margaret rolled her eyes.  
"Oh, shove off Tom. They'll get to class eventually." She retorted in annoyance. Tom was still in disbelief that Margaret had been chosen to be Head Girl, but Margaret wouldn't let it bother her.  
"So anyway, back to tryouts." She said, as if nothing had happened.  
"Right," Winston chuckled, giving Tom an amused look.  
"I'll probably have them this weekend. That will give us plenty of time to practice before the first match in October." He explained. Talking about quidditch took his mind off the howler he had received earlier. Margaret and Winston were both chasers for their respective teams, and they talked about quidditch often. Tom, being a bookish person, didn't care for quidditch. He looked bored as they talked but listened anyway. 

When they got to the transfiguration classroom, they sat together near the front of the room. Tom was attentive, and paid attention during the entire lesson. Margaret was less attentive but did it anyway—she did have to set an example as Head Girl, after all. Winston, however, couldn't concentrate. Thoughts about the howler his parents had sent him had crept back into his mind, and he found it impossible to pay attention to anything else. He fidgeted with his quill in his hand instead of taking notes. Every so often, Tom would glance at him out of the corner of his eye, looking at the blank piece of parchment in front of him.  
The day passed slowly for Winston. When classes were done and he headed back to his dorm room for the evening, he was exhausted. His parents weren't the only thing bothering him anymore—he had a whole day worth of notes to catch up on, since he had barely paid attention in class.  
Sighing tiredly, he closed the door to his dorm room and tossed his bag aside, loosening the tie from around his neck. From across the room, he could see that something had been left on his bed. Wondering what it was, he made his way over to the side of his bed. 

There was a notebook resting on the green sheets of his unmade bed, with a note written in neat cursive. 

_You can copy my notes._

_\- Tom_

Winston smiled slightly, taking the notebook from the bed and sitting down at the desk in the corner of the room to copy the notes. He hadn't seen Tom since dinner earlier that evening, since he was preoccupied with his duties as Head Boy. He made a mental note to thank him later, putting the notebook on Tom's bed when he was finished.


	3. Chapter 3

The week passed by quickly. It was Saturday morning, and Winston was up early for quidditch tryouts. He hated mornings, but having tryouts early would at least free up the rest of his day. 

Winston sat on the edge of his bed as he put on his boots. He reached over to grab his quidditch robes that he'd thrown on the bed earlier, standing up as he put it on over his jumper. The last thing that he had to put on was his captain's badge, which he kept in the drawer of his nightstand. He looked down as he pinned it to his robes, cursing silently as he pricked his finger on the pin. 

"You're up early." 

Winston gasped in surprise as his head jolted upwards. Tom was standing near the door to their dorm room. 

"You really have to stop sneaking up on me like that. I didn't even hear the door open," Winston said as he turned to grab his broom, which was leaning against his dresser. 

"I'm holding quidditch tryouts today." He added. 

"I can see that." Tom remarked as he looked him up and down. Winston chuckled, making his way over to the door. 

"You can come watch if you want--if you're not busy." Winston offered. 

Tom paused for a few seconds as if he was debating whether or not he should go. Winston knew that Tom didn't like quidditch very much, but he secretly hoped that he would come. It would be nice to have a friend around, even if Winston would be spending most of his time up in the air. 

"Alright. I have nothing else to do anyway.” Tom decided. He moved past Winston to grab a book off of his nightstand. Winston turned to leave the room. He stopped as he heard Tom’s voice behind him. 

“You’re forgetting something.” 

“Huh?” Winston muttered as he turned around, blushing in embarrassment as he noticed Tom holding his quidditch goggles. 

“Where’d you find those?” Winston asked as he took the goggles from Tom, putting them on and pushing them up away from his face. 

“They were on your bed, Winston.” Tom explained. Winston sighed in frustration, opening the door to leave their dorm room. 

“Thank you, Tom. I’m so forgetful, it’s not even funny.”  
They left their dormitory, making their way through the Slytherin common room and out into the hallway through the dungeons. There were a few students milling around as Winston and Tom were heading upstairs. 

“So, wait...how are you _not_ busy? You’re always occupied with something.” Winston asked as they climbed the stairs up to the main floor of the castle. They had been given multiple assignments that week, and Winston hadn’t even touched any of them. 

“I’ve finished everything that I needed to do.” Tom shrugged. 

“All the assignments?” Winston questioned. 

“Yes, all of them.” 

Winston casted him a look of disbelief. They had reached the main floor, and were exiting the castle into the courtyard. It was the perfect day for quidditch tryouts—the sky was clear, and it wasn’t windy, nor was it too cold out.

“Even the arithmancy assignment?” Winston added, raising his eyebrows. Arithmancy was Winston’s worst subject, and he had been avoiding completing the assignment since it had been assigned at the beginning of the week. 

“ _Yes_ , Winston, even the arithmancy assignment.” Tom answered dryly. 

“You’ll have to help me with that one.” Winston implored.

“I suppose I’ll have to. Even though I do all the work.” 

“You do _not_ do all of the work, Tom. I help!” 

“You “help”. Case in point—I’m the one getting the good grades. If it weren’t for me, you would have failed arithmancy since third year.” Tom said with a smirk. At first, he sounded annoyed, but it seemed like he was enjoying the argument.

“Well, if it weren’t for me, Tom, you wouldn’t have social skills.” Winston retorted playfully. 

“Oh, shut up.” 

The quidditch pitch was in view as they approached the gates that led into the pitch. Tom and Winston parted ways as Tom went to sit in the stands, while Winston went onto the pitch. Every member of the Slytherin quidditch team was there, along with a few others who wanted to try and make the team. Among them was Winky Crockett, who was a chaser. He and Winston didn’t really talk outside of quidditch, but he still considered him a friend. 

“Winky, how’ve you been mate?” Winston asked.

“Good—how was your summer?”  
“Great! Margaret’s dad took us to see the Holyhead Harpies play against Puddlemere United in August.”

The Holyhead Harpies were Margaret’s favourite team in the British-Irish Quidditch League. She hoped to be scouted by them one day, so she tried to go to as many of their matches as possible. Winston, on the other hand, was more of a Puddlemere fan, and many arguments ensued over who was the better team as a result. 

“Nice! I heard about that match—Puddlemere won by a landslide.” 

After catching up with Winky for a couple of minutes, Winston got the attention of the group of students, who were chatting amongst themselves, waiting for Winston to give instructions. 

“Right then, let’s get started. Since three of our players graduated last year, we’re holding tryouts for three positions—we’ll be needing a beater, a keeper and a seeker,” Winston explained. 

“Just so we’re clear, seniority doesn’t matter. What year you’re in has no bearing on whether or not you’ll be chosen—all that matters is your skill.” 

His gaze swept over the group of students. There were a few students who he recognized to be in their third or fourth year, probably trying out to see if they stood a chance. Winston knew that when he had first been picked for the Slytherin quidditch team, the captain had favoured students who were in the fifth year or above, and the team had been entirely made up of boys. Over the years that he’d been captain, Winston made an effort to diversify the team, and he intended to do the same this year. 

A few minutes later, they were up in the air. Winston surveyed the students as they played, paying most of his attention to the students who weren’t already on the team. He had tasked a few of them with throwing the quaffle around and to try and score a goal, while one of them was guarding a goal hoop. After having watched them for about twenty minutes, Winston decided that it was time to see who could find the golden snitch. 

He had been holding it in his hand the entire time, and it was still fluttering in his grasp as he looked down at it. 

Keeping his balance, he let go of his broom with his other hand and put the whistle that was hanging from his neck in his mouth. He blew hard on the whistle to get everyone’s attention, letting the whistle fall back down against his chest as his teammates and the other students gathered around him. 

“Alright, now that you’ve all had a chance to play a bit of quidditch, I’m going to give you the chance to try and catch the snitch,” he explained, holding the snitch up for everyone to see. 

“I’m sure that most of you are familiar with what a golden snitch is, so I’ll keep this brief—the snitch is very fast and hard to spot, so you have to have a keen eye for catching it. For those of you who don’t want to try out for the seeker position, just keep doing what you’re doing, unless you want to try.” He continued, releasing his grip on the snitch. It flew away in an instant, glinting in the sunlight as it vanished. 

“Good luck!” Winston shouted as everyone went back to playing quidditch. 

He paid attention to the match for a few minutes before his mind started to wander. His eyes scanned the stands below him, where Tom was sitting reading a book. Winston didn’t know if Tom had ever looked up from his book to watch what was going on, but he assumed that he hadn’t, considering he didn’t like quidditch. 

Leaving the quidditch match that was going on beside him, Winston dipped his broom downwards in a gradual dive towards the section of the stands where Tom was sitting. 

“Hey,” he called out to him as his broom slowed to a stop a few feet away from the stands. Tom looked up from his book with a slightly annoyed expression, presumably because Winston had interrupted whatever he was reading. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching them?” Tom asked, referring to the quidditch game that was going on above them. 

“I’m sure they can handle me being away from them for a few minutes,” Winston began, running a hand through his windswept hair. 

“Besides, I just wanted to check up on you.” He added with a mischievous grin. 

Tom glared silently at him before looking back down at his book. Winston’s grin grew wider as he flew closer to Tom. 

“You’re very amusing.” 

“And you’re very annoying.” Tom retorted calmly, turning the page of his book. 

Winston was about to say something in response, but was interrupted by shouting behind him. 

“Winston! Stop flirting with Riddle and get back over here. Someone’s caught the snitch,” Winky shouted. 

Winston snorted with laughter, stealing a quick glance over at Tom, who was blushing furiously behind his book. 

"I don't remember hearing that you two were dating," Winky said as they flew back towards the middle of the pitch. 

"We're not dating, Winky. We're just friends." Winston replied dismissively. 

"Are you sure about that, mate? You two would make a good couple." 

"We're _just_ friends." Winston reiterated firmly. 

After the quidditch tryouts ended, Winston left the pitch through the gates, walking back up the path that led back to Hogwarts. Tom had left shortly before, which was no surprise to Winston. 

He returned to his dorm room, passing Tom, who was sitting at the desk, writing in his diary. He set his broom against the dresser before sitting on the edge of his bed to take his boots off. He tossed them in front of his dresser, slipping out of his quidditch robes and throwing them in the same direction. 

“Thank you for coming with me today, Tom. You didn’t have to,” Winston thanked him as he tugged his jumper over his head, throwing it in the pile of clothes he had created. He got up and went over to his dresser, opening one of the drawers and taking out a knitted grey jumper, which he put on over his undershirt. 

Tom put his quill back in its inkwell, sitting back in his chair. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Silence followed. Winston curled up under the covers of his bed, resting his head on his pillow. 

“I’m going to have a nap.” Winston said as he yawned, rolling over to rest on his opposite side and closing his eyes. He heard Tom get up from the desk. 

“Well you...have a good nap. I’m going to the library to study—I’ll try not to wake you when I come back.” Tom declared awkwardly before quietly leaving the room. 

Winston smiled to himself as he heard the door close. Tom found him annoying most of the time, but deep down, Winston knew that he appreciated having him as a friend. Making a mental note to ask him about helping him with his arithmancy assignment later, Winston slowly drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me five months to write this chapter (sorry)

Chapter 4 - Play Your Cards Right 

History of Magic was widely regarded by the majority of students at Hogwarts to be the most boring subject. The seventh year Slytherin and Gryffindor students, however, had it worse than most students, because History of Magic just so happened to be a double period first thing in the morning on Wednesdays. 

Winston and Tom had met up with Margaret after breakfast to walk to class together, and were walking down the hallway towards the History of Magic classroom.

“I really wish I could just skip this class.” Margaret complained. 

“Well you _could_ , but I would take points from your house if you did.” Tom commented.

“Of course you would,” Margaret scoffed. 

“Seriously, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about skipping at least once.” She added. 

“I haven’t.” Tom replied flatly. 

“You’re no fun.” 

They continued down the hallway. Just as they reached the door to the classroom, Margaret left Winston’s side as she greeted someone who was in the crowd of students heading the other way. He couldn’t see who it was, but he didn’t need to, as he heard Margaret call their name. 

“Laura!” she shouted over the noise of the other students talking. There was a swish of blonde hair as a girl in the crowd looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide with surprise. She smiled as she recognized Margaret, and the two of them moved over to the side of the hallway to chat.  
Making a mental note to ask Margaret about it later, he headed into the classroom. Tom had gone ahead of him and was already seated at the front of the room, as usual. Professor Binns was getting his notes sorted as more students filed into the classroom. 

The two desks in the corner at the back of the classroom was where Margaret and Winston always sat. It was easier to get away with doing whatever they wanted, although Professor Binns hardly noticed anyway. 

Eventually, Professor Binns began reading from his seemingly endless notes without any acknowledgement of the students that were in the room. As the class dragged on, many students stopped taking notes altogether, slouching as they drifted in and out of sleep. Winston was fidgeting with his hands as he tried to pay attention, but couldn’t focus on much of what the professor was saying. He heard Margaret sigh in frustration, and looked over at her as she leaned towards him. 

“I can’t believe we have to sit here for another hour and a half,” she hissed, pausing for a moment. 

“Hey, did you bring the cards?” she asked. Winston’s face brightened as he remembered what she was referring to, smirking. 

“Oh, yes, I always have them with me.” He whispered in reply, quietly turning sideways in his seat and reaching for his bag on the floor. He dug around in his bag for a few seconds, pushing aside parchment and a textbook to get to the deck of cards at the bottom. 

Exploding snap was a card game that was popular at Hogwarts. Most students played it during History of Magic at least once, considering how boring Binn’s lectures were. Winston wasn’t very good at it, but it was a fun way to kill time. 

Margaret got up and moved her chair over to Winston’s desk. Winston had set the cards down on the table, and they began to shuffle themselves. 

“Do you think Binns will notice?” Margaret asked as she casted a quick glance at the professor, who had his head down as he read notes. 

“I don’t remember a time where he’s ever noticed—I don’t think he cares, anyway.” 

The cards had arranged themselves into two equal piles. Winston turned over the first card. Margaret quickly turned over a card from her deck. The two cards had not been a pair, so Winston flipped over another card. 

“Tom’s still taking notes,” Margaret scoffed as she looked over her shoulder. A few rows ahead of them at the front of the room, Tom was diligently taking notes, and it seemed as if his quill hadn’t left the parchment once during the entire lecture. 

“Do you reckon he’d join us?” Winston asked with a grin. Margaret’s eyes widened as she tapped her wand on a pair of cards. 

“And risk his perfect grades? No,” she whispered. 

“He probably doesn’t even play games—you would know what he does better than I do.” 

“Well, you’re not wrong entirely. He doesn’t really like games,” Winston replied, leaning sideways towards Margaret to whisper, 

“But he’s amazing at wizard’s chess.” Winston added with a grin. Margaret suppressed a laugh as the two of them continued playing. Surprisingly, none of the cards had managed to explode yet. 

“So, since when did you start talking to Grenfell?” Winston asked as he tapped his wand on a pair of cards. 

Winston didn’t know much about Laura Grenfell, apart from her being a muggleborn in his year who was a Hufflepuff. She was quiet, and usually sat with the other students in her house, so he hadn’t gotten the chance to get to know her. She was a friend of Margaret’s, although they weren’t very close. 

Margaret casted a quick glance at him before looking back down at the cards. 

“Oh, just a month ago.” She replied. Winston raised his eyebrows. Her reply had been oddly brief, and he noticed a slight blush on her cheeks as she looked away from him. 

“Come on, Margo, I’ve known you’ve fancied girls forever. You’ve been trying to talk to her since fourth year. She’s more than a friend, isn’t she?” Winston pried. 

“Alright, if you _must_ know, we’ve been talking, but it’s been nothing more than that. Besides, I don’t even know if she likes girls.” 

For the first time in her life, Margaret looked hopeless. She flicked her wand at the cards and they arranged themselves back into a deck, sitting neatly in the middle of the desk. 

“Well, you’ll know if she likes you.” Winston commented. His gaze drifted over to where Tom was sitting. He had put down his quill and shut his notebook, which meant that the class was nearly over. 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Margaret said as she stood up from her chair, rolling her eyes. 

“You don’t know the first thing about girls—you don’t even _like_ them.” She huffed. Without bothering to return her chair to its desk, she put her books in her bag and waited for Winston to finish putting away his things. The two of them left the classroom together.

“That’s true,” Winston conceded with a grin as they walked down the hallway. 

“But I still think you should just go for it. You’re a Gryffindor for Merlin’s sake, have some courage.” He teased. 

Margaret shot him a playful glare as she gave him a light shove. 

“Oh, piss off.” 

She smiled slightly at Winston before heading into her next class. 

Winston continued down the hallway towards the stairs that led to the dungeons. He had potions next, and he took his time, even though he knew Tom would be cross with him for being late. Professor Slughorn liked him anyway, so he doubted he’d lose house points.  
He let his mind wander as he walked. He thought about the time when he and Margaret were in their fourth year, and had spent a week together that summer. It had been before Winston left his parents to live with her. 

The two of them had been sitting under the big willow at the edge of the pond on her parent’s property, as they would often go there to talk. 

_Summer 1941_

__

_“Do you think I’ll make the quidditch team next year?” Margaret asked Winston. She was watching the long strings of willow leaves sway in the breeze, as if she were mesmerized by them._

__

__

_“I think so. You’re good at quidditch.” He answered, picking up one of the fallen strands of leaves. He began ripping off the leaves absentmindedly._

__

_There was a few seconds of silence before Margaret spoke again._

__

_“Winston?”_

__

_“Yeah, Margo?”_

__

_“Do you think the war will end soon?”_

__

_Winston was taken aback by the question. He knew there was a war going on between the muggles, but the wizarding world was largely separate from all the conflict, so witches and wizards weren’t really impacted by it._

__

_“I don’t know. We’re safe though—we aren’t muggles.”_

__

_That statement wasn’t entirely true. Grindlewald, a powerful wizard, was stirring up trouble in the wizarding world and encouraging hatred and violence towards muggles and muggleborns. Winston had heard from his father that professor Dumbledore and a few other Ministry officials were working to put a stop to it, so even conflicts in the wizarding world didn’t affect them much._

__

_“I’m worried about Laura.” Margaret fretted. She pulled a fistful of grass out of the ground and let it fall through her fingers._

__

_“Why are you worried about Laura? She lives in the country—she’ll be fine.”_

__

_Margaret didn’t say anything in response._

__

_“Wait...you like her, don’t you?”_

__

_“I do not!” Margaret said indignantly, although her face was turning a bright shade of red._

__

_“...I just want to make sure she’s safe, that’s all. We talked a little before the term ended, and she seemed stressed.”_

__

_Winston smiled slightly._

__

_“You like her.”_

__

_“Alright,” she began with a sigh._

__

_“I do. But what if my parents don’t approve?”_

__

_“Margaret, your parents are the most accepting people in the world. They’ll accept you,” Winston paused,_

__

_“Besides, you’re not the only one who isn’t straight.” he hinted._

__

_Margaret turned her head to look at him with a blank stare._

__

_“Well, I already knew that.” She stated simply._

__

_“No you didn’t.”_

__

_“Yes, I did!”_

__

_“Is it really that obvious?”_

__

_“You’ve had the biggest crush on Abraxas Malfoy. Otherwise I know you wouldn’t talk to him, because he’s a prick.”_

__

_Winston laughed, lowering his head as he blushed._

__

_“Oh, piss off.”_

Winston turned the doorknob to the potions classroom, opening the door slowly so as not to disrupt the class. He slid through the door, turning around to shut it softly. 

“Mr. Darcy!” 

Professor Slughorn’s voice made him flinch, and his head jerked sideways to look at the professor. Winston smiled sheepishly.

“How nice of you to finally join us! Since you’re here, would you mind answering a question for me?” 

Winston nodded. Professor Slughorn had a habit of putting particular students on the spot, especially if they were late or talking during class. 

“Absolutely, professor.” Winston responded, maintaining his smile and pretending to be enthusiastic. 

“What would I get if I mixed powdered moonstone with porcupine quills and a unicorn’s horn?” 

“That would be the draught of peace, professor.” 

“Excellent, my boy! Please try to be on time for class next time.” Slughorn gave him a nod and a polite smile as Winston sauntered over to his seat. 

Winston made eye contact with Tom and grinned. Tom didn’t look impressed, however.

“You’re late. I’ve almost finished our potions assignment.” Tom told him as he frowned at his textbook. 

“Well, I’ll finish it then,” Winston said, peering over at Tom’s textbook before looking at the contents of the cauldron in front of them. 

“Is this an antidote for poisons?” Winston guessed. Tom shook his head with an exasperated sigh. 

“No, but close. It’s a Wiggenweld potion—it’s an antidote for sleeping potions,” Tom explained. 

Winston smirked. 

“I might be late sometimes, but I know what I’m doing.” 

“You’re good at potions, I’ll give you that. But you shouldn’t be late for class.” Tom chided without looking up from what he was reading. 

“Because you miss having me as a lab partner?” Winston suggested with a wolfish grin, tilting his head. 

Tom said nothing. His lips formed a thin line as he stared intently at the textbook. He was annoyed, but Winston could see a flicker of amusement in his eyes. 

“I knew it.” Winston said, leaning back in his chair. He’d spoken a little too loudly, because professor Slughorn called them out.  
“Boys, quiet down please.” he said sternly. 

Tom scowled at Winston out of the corner of his eye, reaching over to slide the textbook away from him. 

“Sorry.” Winston muttered, resting his head on his hand to conceal his laughter.


End file.
